


Dearest, Loveliest Lizzie

by imaginarycircus



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: after this, just not certain, more epistolary fic, no idea if there will be more, possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/pseuds/imaginarycircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year since Darcy declared his love for Lizzie at Collins and Collins's 2012 Halloween party. And what a difference a year makes. Darcy finished <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/746178">writing letters to Lizzie</a> back in June. He suspected he'd write others if the spirit moved him, which it did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_A letter written on ecru letter paper slipped into the case Lizzie keeps her laptop in and discovered when she reaches her office._

 

November 1, 2013

Dearest, Loveliest Elizabeth,

 

I woke up in the middle of the night and could not get back to sleep. It’s a long story, but I somehow found myself rewatching your old videos. I did not start at the very beginning. I began with Halloween. This may shock you, but I laughed this time when you said, “Well, why don’t you watch my videos.” Your expression of horror is perfection. My befuddlement is amusing in hindsight.

I still cringe over my own behavior and words in many of my guest appearances on your vlog, never mind the things I said to you off camera. But it stings a very little to see your disdain now. The pain is rather hazy— distant. The last six months with you have washed most of it away. My joy is so intense that I am quite transformed. I do not recognize myself in the best possible way. The difference is not limited to my own perception. One of my father’s old friends stopped me the other day after a meeting to intimate that I looked more like my old self. I wasn’t quite sure what he meant at first, but GiGi understood. She dug up an old photograph of me from the summer after I graduated from high school. I’ve never been precisely lighthearted, but I did smile more in those days. Certain pressures and responsibilities had not descended upon me then and it shows even in the way I am standing in that old photo. But now… I look easier, happier. I’ve been accused of foolishly and absently grinning by Fitz. That’s entirely down to you.

I watched through to the final video. My felicity is not less than it was at the start of our relationship. It grows and deepens. I sat for several moments savoring the knowledge that I need only walk twenty feet to see you sleeping peacefully in my bed. You’ve been putting in long hours so I did not wake you.You’d kicked off the covers and I resisted the urge to tuck them back around you because I know you don’t like that and it wakes you up. I did kiss your shoulder and possibly your right ankle. Then I took myself off to a rather cool shower.

If you feel well rested and can get away I would like you to meet me for dinner this evening. Although we should by rights celebrate your birthday as the start of our relationship—I’d like to mark today. Because one year ago today I wrote you that first letter. That letter was the beginning of everything that changed between us. You began to see me more clearly. Once you’d excoriated me and recorded it I saw little point in huddling behind defenses. I believed you would always despise me, but I wanted you to at least despise me and not the lies that Wickham told you about me. I never expected everything that has followed, which makes it all the more rare and wonderful.

We’ve passed the six month moratorium on the expenditure limit we agreed to. We can renegotiate, but in this gap I am afraid I took advantage of what I view as a loophole. Is it too much to beg you to take pity on me and accept anything I may give you with good grace? Know that I believe I restrained myself though you will no doubt disagree in your own lovely way.

Lizzie, I adore you more than I thought was possible. I think before I met you I wasn’t capable of this level of passion, but you carved hollows and valleys into me as relentlessly as a glacier excavates lake beds.

I quite miss writing these missives. Shall I pick you up at 7:30? Please let me know whether to fetch you at home or at your office.

Utterly and forever besotted,

William


	2. The Missing Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie is nonplussed on her first Valentine's Day with William.

_Note found on kitchen counter when Lizzie stumbled out for coffee at 7 AM on Feb. 14, 2014_

Apologies. Unexpected snag with new partner. Didn't want to wake you. We're out of milk. -W

 

email to: wdarcy@pemdig.com  
sent from: lbennet@lbproductions.com  
date: Feb. 14, 2014 at 9:45 AM  
subject: milk

I will pick up milk on my way home. Anything else? Is your problem resolving?

 

reply to: lbennet@lbproductions.com  
sent from: wdarcy@pemdig.com  
date: Feb. 14, 2014 at 10:33 AM  
re: milk

Toothpaste. And yes, but v. busy. Did you put heart shaped cookies in my bag? If so, they're delicious. Thank you. 

 

email to: wdarcy@pemdig.com  
sent from: lbennet@lbproductions.com  
date: Feb. 14, 2014 at 11:04 AM  
re: re: milk

Uh, yes. I did. That's everything? Certain you're not forgetting something?

 

reply to: lbennet@lbproductions.com  
sent from: wdarcy@pemdig.com  
date: Feb. 14, 2014 at 12:29 PM  
re: re: re: milk

Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you very much for taking my shirts to the cleaners yesterday.

 

reply to: lbennet@lbproductions.com  
sent from: wdarcy@pemdig.com  
date: Feb. 14, 2014 at 3:32 PM  
re: re: re: milk

I'm sorry, but we just hit another snag. I don't think I'll be able to make it home for dinner. You should eat without me. -W

 

reply to: lbennet@lbproductions.com  
sent from: wdarcy@pemdig.com  
date: Feb. 14, 2014 at 4:04 PM  
re: re: re: milk

 

Lizzie?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part will post between 6 and 7 PM pacific time. Have faith in me.


	3. Amelioration

_Handwritten letter, folded and wax sealed. Found on top of a box that contains some of Lizzie's old things, discovered after 6 PM in Darcy's home office closet._

February 14, 2014

Dearest, Loveliest Lizzie,

I cannot claim to possess perfect accuracy when predicting your movements, but I feel quite certain that you are beautifully irritated with me right this minute and that you've come in search of this box for ammunition. Glittery, unicorn retribution. Well I may deserve it and I will take my lumps graciously should it come to that. 

I apologize for today's subterfuge. I must confess to some rather juvenile impulses. Since Christmas I have been receiving unwanted advice about today. All and sundry have told me what I needed to do to make today [insert superlative of your choice.] Your mother has been emailing me photographs of jewelry diurnally, none of which I purchased. Unclench your fist. Lydia gave me advice that I am not comfortable repeating. GiGi and Fitz have planned everything from romantic dinners to vacations in Fiji. Charlotte told me where I might rent a chocolate fountain. Jane intimated (gently) that I not forget the date. She even offered to help. My assistant has sent me the contact information for several "floral designers" and asked me if I needed help scheduling a delivery. I am ashamed to admit that I grew ornery over the entire affair and had half convinced myself that you would not care if I skipped marking such a silly day. That was in January. 

Here is the crux of my problem: I have long disliked the commercial nature of manufactured, corporate holidays, but for the first time in my life I am besotted by the most glorious woman on earth. For the first time I comprehend the allure of bestowing roses and chocolate with wild abandon. I haven't been rolling my eyes at the non-atomically correct hearts tacked up everywhere. None of those tributes seemed right to express the singular nature of my feelings for you. You haven't said a word, or so much as hinted at what you'd like, or what you expected from today. I did inquire of Jane and Charlotte how you felt about Valentine's Day. Neither of them seemed quite sure.

I almost ordered enough roses to fill both the bedroom and your office. I spent an hour in Tiffany's looking through a jeweler's lens. I reviewed menus at six restaurants, but the more grandiose the plans the less I thought you would truly enjoy them. I broke down and called the one person who had not offered me advice and truly is the kindest person I know. As per usual, Bing set me to rights. He said, "It's not as important to be original as it is to be sincere." 

For someone who is reputed to be intelligent, I am astoundingly dull witted at times. I am fond of tradition and there is nothing mundane about expressing love with veracity. I comprehend at this juncture that my feelings are not singular after all. Love is a common human emotion and a humanizing one. I don't mean that love is unremarkable. It is staggering.

I apologize for my reticence today. It was not planned to tease you. I really did get called into an emergency meeting and it wrecked my carefully laid plans to seduce you over waffles. (Not literally. On second thought I would not have ruled it out. I am sure maple syrup tastes wonderful on you.)

This is incredibly solopsistic, but because this will be my first real Valentine's Day, I insist on expressing myself to you in person. I did not care to wake you at 5:20 this morning on my way out the door. You haven't been getting enough sleep. I couldn't bring myself to say anything through the cold ones and zeroes of email. There are still several hours left in the day and if you will permit it, I shall unspool them telling you how ardently I admire and love you.

Jane and Lydia both let me know when you were on your way home today and I owe them much gratitude. Fitz kindly sneaked in and hid this missive for me. There is a second letter taped to the television, but I assumed you would arm yourself with glittery munitions before resorting to period dramas featuring consumptive heroines. When you are ready, please come down to the foyer so that I may whisk you off for a romantic dinner. I will be waiting patiently, as long as it takes. Does it sound ridiculous to avow that I would wait for you forever? I think it rather does, but it matters not. Truth absolves me of mawkishness. (Was that pompous enough for your liking?)

I won't wish you anything until I see you in person. Permit me that and forgive me, please?

All my love,

William

P.S. Thank you for buying milk and toothpaste.


	4. One Year Precisely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie and William's first anniversary. (Usually I try to post these real time, but we'll just pretend it's an hour from now.) Tried to keep in line with the little blips of information in the twtterfic and the Bennets selling their house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in untidy scrawl on the back of a green flyer.

March 17, 2014

 

William,

I apologize for writing on the back of a flyer for... what is this? (I should have checked the other side first. Sorry. It's a meeting for people who want to explore past lives. God. I am glad my mother is moving to a new town. We found her crystal ball while packing. She divined that I would end up a spinster and keep cats when I was 13.) I lost my keys three times trying to leave and one of those times I was holding them in my hand so as you might imagine, normal paper is beyond me. For accuracy I won't put this letter in your hands until after 6:34 PM. Heaven forfend that I wish you a happy one year anniversary too early. 

Everything I didn't donate or toss is going into the storage space that Jane and I are splitting. I only brought two boxes with me and I will take you up on your generous offer to host them in your office closet. You could play handball in there, you know. Most people can't run laps in their closets. 

I'm bursting to tell you all about Lydia, but I didn't want to talk about her when she might overhear. I'm so proud of her and everything she's done since last year. I'll tell you all about it later, but I miss her already. I stopped at that coffee place you hate on my way home to collect my thoughts. Now that I've been drinking your cost prohibitive, single-estate-origin coffee for nearly a year, you're right. This coffee is gross. I'll miss it just the same. It's disconcerting to think I won't be back here anytime soon, possibly ever. Mostly I'm fine with that. I'm more anxious to get back to you than I am to be here. I miss your enormous bathtub more than I can say. (You probably thought that sentence was going somewhere else? Didn't you? Be honest.) I miss the way you hum off-key while cooking, the way you do sock slides in the hall when you think no one is watching and then giggle very quietly. (Never fear. I'll take that knowledge to my grave.) I miss the way your hair smells in the morning when it's still damp from the shower. I've used your shampoo. It doesn't smell the same on me. 

Here is my gift to you: I'm not renewing my lease.

You've been dropping massive hints about me keeping my things in your apartment. Emptying out half your closet space was not subtle. I seriously doubt you had that many things to give to Goodwill. But your wish is granted and I hope you'll take me in off the cold, lonely streets of San Francisco. They still haven't forgiven me.

Everything else I want to tell you will be better delivered in person. I think we should write up an official roommate agreement before I move in. I will use coasters and clean my hair out of the drain catch, for instance. And if I forget you may exact a "penalty." But turnabout is fair play and if I find empty milk cartons in the fridge, expect to do my bidding.

Signed in terrified excitement, with overwrought emotions, and a stupid amount of love,

Lizzie


End file.
